Of The Gods
by Xtyne
Summary: She had been banished at birth, doomed to roam an eternity alone by a single envious God. It was only a matter of time until the daughter of Love and War, Beauty and Destruction, found Death himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

"The human has been dispatched," Eric knelt beside his maker, eying him closely. "I've arranged an AB Negative donor. I doubt the fellowship had anything decent."

Godric smiled sadly at his progeny. "I am not hungry."

"You haven't eaten in days," Eric pointed out.

"I require very little blood."

"That does not mean you don't require blood at all," a frown spread across the Viking's lips. His bond to his maker was still closed, Godric refusing to allow his child to feel the guilt that weighed on his shoulders. It unnerved Eric to know that the vampire before him was no longer the same vampire that had turned him over a thousand years ago. Godric had once been the most ruthless vampire he had ever known. But the maker before him had changed since they had last parted paths.

And that frightened him.

"Godric, I…" he began, so many questions haunting him. Why hadn't he gone with him at the church? How had the brainless idiots manage to capture him, a two thousand year old vampire, in the first place?

"I'm afraid I cannot answer the questions you have," Godric's head tilted to the side as he gazed at Eric. He was beautiful; he always had been. He would miss his Viking's fierce beauty. "I do, however, have a request of you."

Eric's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Of course, father. Ask of me what you will."

Godric couldn't help but smile. Eric had always willing to please him, no matter the request. He had been a loyal progeny, a worthy partner of Death. "I wish for you to locate someone for me."

"Locate someone?" Eric questioned in confusion. "Who do you speak of?"

"It is a girl," Godric explained vaguely. "She is…an old friend."

"A human?" Eric snorted. "You detested humans once."

"I have evolved it seems," Godric sighed softly. "And she is as far from human as one could possibly be."

This intrigued Eric. Godric had never mentioned a girl in the past. He had never mentioned any _old friends_. Eric had travelled with him for a millennia and this was the first time this girl was spoken of. Who was she, and what did she mean to his maker?

"Who is she?"

"Someone very important."

"If she's so important, why is this the first time you've spoken of her?" Eric's eyes narrowed. A spark of jealous coursed through him. He had been his maker's only child, the only one he had chosen to spend an eternity with. Eric did not like the idea of there possibly being another. "Is she your child? Do I have a sister?"

Godric chuckled. "No, my son, you can ease your worry. You are my only child, my only chosen companion."

Eric's shoulders sagged in relief. "Who is she then?" He was happy to know that no other had entranced his maker in the way that he had, but he was still intrigued about this girl that he deemed important. "Is she one of us?"

"No, she is not a vampire."

Eyebrows furrowing together, Eric felt at a loss of words. "If she is not human, nor a vampire, then pray tell, what is she?"

"That is a story for another time," Godric shook his head. He wanted – needed – his child to set out and search for her. "Could you do this for me, my child? Could you search for her without another question being answered?"

Eric knew that he could, that he would. He would do anything his maker ever asked of him without a doubt. He had never had a reason to doubt the vampire that had given him a second life. But that did not cease the intrigue.

"Yes," Eric nodded. "I still wish to know, however."

"You always were full of questions," Godric remembered a simpler time when his child had only been a baby vampire. He had been so curious, so full of intrigue. Eric had wanted to know everything he could about his new life, about this new world. And Godric had fulfilled every whim, every question that could have formed. He would do anything for Eric. "Not here. Not now. I will answer whatever questions you might have, but later. Will that quench your thirst for answers for now?"

Eric agreed. He would go the entire night wondering about this mysterious girl. But soon, soon he would know everything he wished. He could wait until then.

"Then go," Godric nodded into the next room. "I believe the Stackhouse girl has captured your attention."

A smirk slid across Eric's lips at the mention of the telepath. "She has proven to be very useful."

"There is a spark about her. She is not entirely human," Godric mused. He had known it the moment he had ripped Gabe off of her body.

"No, she most certainly is not just human," Eric's smirk only seemed to widen.

"You always did enjoy a good mystery."

"Not all the time," Eric stood, laying a hand on his maker's shoulder. "Later?"

"Of course, my son," Godric assured, offering a reassuring smile. "I do warn you, though. I doubt you will believe my tale."

That only managed to intrigue the Viking more. "We'll see."

* * *

Eric impatiently waited as guests began to leave as dawn approached. He paced each room, glaring at those that dared to remain behind for a moment longer than the others. He wanted to be alone with his maker for the first time in seventy years. He wanted answers. The moment the last guest exited the nest, Eric was before his maker in his study once more.

"You are impatient," Godric shook his head but laughed lightly as he rose, motioning for Eric to do the same. "Rise, my son. We have been equals since the moment I created you."

Eric rose but kept his head bowed in respect as he followed Godric from the room.

"Let us be comfortable. I fear this is a long tale I must tell you."

"Who is she?" Eric couldn't help but question immediately as they settled on a long white couch. "Why is she so important? What is she?"

Godric raised a hand to cease his questions. "I know you have questions, Eric. But there is a story that must be told first," A look of frustration on his child's face caused the ancient to laugh. "What will satisfy your questions? You may only ask one before you must wait."

Eric frowned as he thought. He wanted to know her name, to know who exactly she was. But he was intrigued as to _what_ she was. She was neither a human nor a vampire. Could she have been a witch? No, witches and vampires had detested one another for millennia. He doubted his maker would care for one like he did for this girl. Then what could she be?

"What is she, Godric?" Eric wondered curiously, leaning forward as he watching Godric closely. "She is not human or vampire. What exactly is she then?"

Godric sighed as he closed his eyes, a small smile spreading across his lips. "She is the oldest, one of the most powerful beings you will ever have the pleasure of meeting."

"That is not an answer."

"You will not believe me."

"Try me," Eric goaded. "Tell me. What is she? What is this mysterious girl that has you so enthralled?"

"Are you certain you wish to know this before you even know her name?"

"Yes," Eric replied with certainty. He was obsessed with the want to know what she was. It was all he cared about. A name would do nothing but bore him.

Godric's orbs opened as he took in his curious child. His smile widened at his wonderment. He had not seen Eric in such a way for nearly a thousand years. It was amusing to him. "She is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. She is both love and war, beauty and destruction. Her story is truly tragic, however; doomed to spend an eternity alone."

Eric was growing impatient. "I do not wish for a poem, Godric. What is she?"

Godric couldn't help but laugh. "My son, you truly have no idea."

"Godric…"

"She, my eternal child, is the only Goddess to ever roam this earth."

Eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"I assume you know the stories of the Olympians."

"Stories, yes," Eric's head tilted to the side. "But that is all they are. Stories."

"Are you certain of that?"

Eric leaned back, a frown settling across his lips as he watched his maker closely. "Are you trying to tell me they are not simply stories?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

Eric was speechless for the first time in his entire existence. He had lived in a time when the gods of Odin and Thor were prayed to and adored. But they had simply been stories, bed time tales parents would tell their children, warning them of Loki's mischief should they misbehave. They had never been, however, thought of to be real. It was impossible.

"Impossible," Eric shook his head in disbelief.

"Are we not impossible, my son?" Godric pointed out. "We should not be possible, and yet we are. There are many secrets of this universe, my child, secrets that have been kept hidden for thousands of years."

"You are telling me this girl, she is an Olympian?" Eric's eyebrows furrowed. "She is a god?"

Godric smiled in amusement. "She would be furious at being called a God."

"If the stories are true, then how does she roam this earth?"

"That is a part of the tale I must tell you. Are you ready for me to begin?" Godric asked.

Eric wasn't. he wanted his questions answered. He wanted to know how it was possible that these Gods were more than just a fairytale. He wanted to know why one was wandering amongst them. He wanted to know how she had befriended his maker.

But a glance at his maker ceased any further questions. He saw the desperation on Godric's face, the need to tell this story, for Eric to seek out this mysterious Goddess. If it pleased his father, Eric would go to the end of the world for him. He could certainly force his patience.

"Allow me to begin…"

* * *

**A/N:** So I've had this chapter ready to go for quite a while, but never found the right time. Well with a fic just finished, I couldn't stop myself from wanting to post this. Okay, so I have too many fics happening. But this idea has been stewing for way too long (and I find myself with quite a bit of time on my hands), so don't hate me. I'll be updating the others shortly, and the sequel to Until the Last Heartbeat is always on my mind.

Just a fair warning, I will be taking liberties with Greek Mythology. I want to stay true, but of course, myths are myths, and are ever changing. If there is ever anything you find you would desire to see, or I have gotten so terribly wrong that you want to point it out (in a very nice and pleasant way), then by all means! I love Greek mythology, and want to give it some justice while also taking an artistic license with it. So please enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

"This is where a Goddess of Love and War lives?" Eric raised an eyebrow as he stood before the remote cabin in the depths of Bulgaria's thickest forest. The wood was rotting, with the roof beginning to cave in. It was nowhere Eric would ever choose to call home; not even in his human years would he ever live in such a shit hole.

He wondered if he had located the wrong girl, if his sources had been wrong. There was no sign of life surrounding the cabin, and as he listened for a heartbeat inside, he found none.

"This is a waste of time," Eric sighed, shaking his head as he turned to leave. He would consult his associates once more, demanding results this time.

Before he could take to the night sky, however, the tiniest of movements caught the corner of his eye. Frowning, Eric turned towards the front window. The curtains were sheer, barely disturbing his view into the dark and abandoned cabin. He stared long enough to believe he had only been seeing things. That is, until something – or someone – dashed passed the window.

"Found you," the Viking smirked as he began towards the front door. He was unsure if an invitation would be needed into the home; he wasn't certain if a Goddess could be classified as a human in any capacity. "I can always blow it down," he snickered to himself. A quick flick of his wrist and the cabin would crumble to the ground.

Reaching for the door handle, Eric was caught off guard as the door was suddenly thrown open, a hand appearing from the darkness and yanking him through the threshold. He was on the ground in seconds before he could get his bearings, the sharp edge of a blade placed at the curve of his neck.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" a woman's voice hissed.

"Well that's no way to greet your guests," Eric snorted, a smirk crossing his lips as he gazed up at the woman he had been eager to find. He was not surprised that Godric had been correct; she was indeed the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He didn't expect anything less, however, from the daughter of Aphrodite.

"Guests should not sneak around one's property uninvited."

He chuckled as he reached for the blade of the sword she wielded, only to hiss in pain as his skin burned. Silver.

"Smart girl," he mused, cocking his head to the side. A cascade of brown locks fell across her shoulders and down her back, framing her round face. Her eyes entranced him, almost hypnotizing. They were the brightest shade of blue he had ever witnessed. He hadn't thought such a colour was even possible. They were as clear as the ocean, and yet darker than the night sky.

"I will only ask one last time, Viking; what are you doing here?" she demanded to know.

Eric's smirk faltered. "Viking?"

"Don't play me as a fool," she pressed the blade against his neck, watching as the vampire grit his teeth from the burning pain. "Tell me why you are here."

"How did you know I was a Viking?" his eyebrows furrowed. How could she know such a thing? Had Godric told her?

Her thin lips pursed. "I won't hesitate to kill you, Northman. Answer my question."

This intrigued Eric. "You know who I am."

"Of course I do," she seemed agitated, her grip tightening on her sworn. "Now tell me why you are…"

"How do you know who I am?" he questioned before grasping onto the blade of the sword, ignored the sudden blinding pain, and yanked the weapon right from the girl's grip. She was startled by his actions, allowing Eric to take advantage and reverse their positions, slamming the Goddess onto the ground by her neck. He kept his grip tight as his fangs extended. "How?"

She grasped onto his wrist, attempting to tug at his grip. It was no use however; she was a Goddess, but he was a thousand year old Viking Vampire. Her strength alone was not enough to match his. It had always infuriated her that she was a true immortal being, but older vampires could over power her with a flick of their wrists.

"Not as all and mighty as I expected," the smirk returned to his lips. He honestly had been expecting more. She was the daughter of the God of War, and yet he had been able to best her. He was almost disappointed.

"Get off of me, Viking, and you shall see a true fight," she warned him with narrowed orbs. She dug her nails into his wrists, but it did nothing to move the fingers that were wrapped around the base of her neck. "Release me."

"Ah, there is some spunk in you after all," his smirk widened. "Why did Godric ever let you go? You would have been an amusing pet to have around."

She was furious for so many reasons, the least for being called a pet. Closing her eyes, Eric was surprised to find her form grow limp. Had he been able to subdue her that quickly? Now he truly was disappointed. He was hoping for much more of a battle, one that Ares himself would be proud of. He supposed Godric's great stories were nothing more than overpraised fantasies. He had come all this way for nothing interesting at all.

It was as he begun to rise off of her, tired of these games, that he began to feel the sudden loss of energy. It was the familiar feeling when the sun rose, tugging him unconscious. He could feel the blood pooling in his ears, as his eyes grew weary. But it was the dead of the night, sunrise hours away. The silver hadn't affected him, and he had thrown the blade away. Had he not realized another weapon?

But she was the weapon.

She almost wanted to grin in satisfaction as a groan emitted from the vampire, his large form sagging to the side as the energy was drained from him. She left what was only necessary before she quickly returned to her feet, grasping onto the fallen sword. With it in hand, her eyes closed once more as the energy returned to the Viking as if nothing had every happened.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Eric growled, on his feet in only seconds as he bared his fangs at her. He did not take kindly to being defeated, especially in the form of magic he had never encountered before.

"I don't take kindly to unwanted guests attacking me in my own home," she held her trusted sword loosely at her side. She didn't want to have to fight him, the Viking warrior who she had seen with her own eyes use his own beloved royal sword on a handful of times. But she was prepared if necessary.

"You attacked me."

"And you were stalking my home," she countered, eying him closely. He was the same as she had last seem him, and yet different at the same time. His hair was shorter, styled more modernly than his Viking persona. She had to admit that it suited him, as did the leather jacket and black clothing that clung to his body. She found that she much rather modern clothing to that of cheap cloth she had encountered for too many centuries. "Why?"

"What did you do to me?" It had to have been her, Eric realized. There was no other explanation. Perhaps he had underestimated the Goddess after all. He found himself excited at the prospect. It had been far too long since he had a truly exhilarating battle with another.

She was not willing to spill her secrets just yet, however. "Why are you here, Northman?"

"How exactly do you know me? Godric's tale ended far before he turned me," Eric couldn't help his intrigue. Godric's story had only given him so much information, most that was hard to believe as it was.

Her laugh held no amusement. "He would say that, wouldn't he?"

"Are you saying my maker lied to me?"

"I'm merely saying that you don't know the whole story – whatever story it was that your maker told you," she couldn't say his name. Not after so long. It had taken centuries to get the ancient being out of her head.

"Ah, former lover's spat, perhaps?" her mask was good, but Eric was a master of hiding his emotions. He could see straight through her act. There was an interesting past between his maker and this Goddess, one that Godric hadn't thought to share. Why exactly did Godric want her found after all this time? By his calculation, it would have been over a thousand years since they last met. Why now?

He of course, had his suspicions. He refused to believe them, however. He couldn't. The thought of losing his maker was not one he could digest. Not now, not ever.

"Why are you here? I will not ask you again," her grasp tightened around the sheath of her sword.

Fangs retracting back into place, Eric leisurely strolled around the tiny room. While it was dark, only the moon lighting the room, he could see how despicable of a dump the cabin truly was.

"I was hoping for something a bit more glamorous," Eric waved at the room, his frown twisted in disgust. "I expected more from a Goddess."

"And I expected a far better battle from a Viking."

Eric paused as he considered her words. He merely shrugged it off, and continued his inspection. His gaze moved to her every so often, appreciating the sight. She was tall and lean, as if she had battled a thousand wars. Of course, he figured, she likely had. He almost found himself impressed. Almost. He could definitely see why Godric would take an interest in her. She may have been thousands of years old, but she barely looked older than a young adult. She was young and sweet looking, and Eric wondered how many she had fooled – or seduced – over the years.

"One last chance, Northman. Or I'll consider staking you," she warned.

"Oh but you won't," he smirked in her direction. "Or else you already would have."

"Don't tempt me," she knew he was right however. She wouldn't intentionally bring any harm to the Viking. He was Godric's progeny, after all. "For a Sheriff of Louisiana, you are quite a long way from home."

His smirk faltered. She knew more about him than he initially thought. "Aren't you just full of knowledge? How exactly does someone living in a shit hole in the middle of nowhere know that?"

"I know many things, Northman. What I don't know, however, is why you're here."

They were both growing tired of this game. Turning towards her, Eric considered her for a moment before answering. "Godric sent me."

"Why?" she didn't allow herself a moment to let it sink in. There was always a reason behind everything the ancient vampire did. He hadn't survived this long for there not to be. After so long, why was he suddenly calling on her now? Especially after they had last parted.

"He didn't say," Eric shrugged, telling the truth. His maker had only requested she be found. He never answered Eric's questions as to why.

But Eric knew. He knew it was to say goodbye.

"I don't believe you."

"That's not my problem," his patience was growing thin. He may not know the relationship between the two, but his maker had made a request and he was going to follow through with it. If she wanted to come or not. "But I will complete my task."

Her grasp tightened on her sword. She had a feeling he was going to say that. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen."

"Is that so?" he stepped towards her, using his impressive height to try and intimidate her.

She merely raised an eyebrow at his attempt. She had fought creatures beyond his wildest imagination. One mere little Viking wasn't going to scare her. Before she could raise her sword in warning, however, the snapping of a twig caused her entire body to stiffen.

There were no longer alone.

"What have you done," she hissed, twisting around and peering through the drapes. She could see no one in the immediate vicinity, but she could sense that they were there.

And there were many.

Frowning, Eric watched the Goddess with interest. When another twig was snapped, he too became alert.

"We're not alone."

"Are you just now coming to that conclusion?" she snapped at him, inching closer to the window.

"Well don't be snappy at me, Princess."

Princess? "Call me that again and I won't hesitate to castrate you."

He would have snickered if a shadow dashing across the opposite window hadn't of caught his attention. "Expecting company?"

She threw a glare over her shoulder. "I never am. I was perfectly happy here for the past 15 years without them catching onto me. And then you coming snooping around where you shouldn't be and suddenly we're surrounded."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so this is my doing, is it?"

"Godric was an idiot to send you. Of course they would be watching him, just waiting for one of you to come looking for me," a string of curses were muttered under her breath in an ancient language that had Eric's head wheeling. "There's at least half a dozen. Likely more."

"That's all?" he snorted cockily.

"You've never met a Demigod before, have you?"

"Well if they fight anything like the Goddess I just met…"

He was playing with fire. But she didn't have time to try and outsmart his witty remarks. She didn't have time for this at all. Ignoring the Viking, she marched towards the front door. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one. She would strike down each and every one of the armies that Hephaestus sent for her head.

"And where do you think you're going?" Eric was beside her in only a blink of an eye, his monstrous hand pressed solidly against the door.

"If you haven't noticed, we're under attack," she attempted to shove his arm, but she barely even made him budge. "Move, Viking."

"I gave Godric my word that I would bring you to him. I'd rather do that with you alive."

She didn't bother to inform him that as a Goddess, there was only one true cause to end her immortality. "I don't have time for this."

"They can wait," Eric shook his head.

She eyed the window, two forms growing closer to the cabin. "I doubt that."

"You _will_ be coming with me to Dallas," he leaned over her until their gazes were equal. "You seem to know quite a bit about me. You should know that I _always_ get what I want."

She did know.

But he didn't realize that after 3,500 years, she was incredibly stubborn in her ways.

"Lets make a wager, shall we?" he returned to his towering height, the smirk back in place.

"This isn't a game, Northman."

"You're right…you know, I don't even know your name," he leaned against the door, his orbs raking over her tense form. "I didn't bother asking Godric. I didn't have a need for it. It was easy enough to find a Goddess amongst humans."

Her lips pursed together. "We are not doing this."

"Oh, we most certainly are. Well?" he raised an eyebrow.

Oh how she wanted to strike him with her sword. Perhaps not through the heart, but at least take a limb or two. They would grow back. Eventually.

"I can do this all night," he taunted. "Of course, I don't think your guests would say the same."

"Celena," she forced out through clenched teeth. "Now move."

"Celena," he tested her name, his smirk only growing. "By my count, there are three of your Demigods in the back, and three in the front. Shall we see who can defeat the most?"

"You're really that much of an idiot, aren't you?" she was flabbergasted that he was truly making a game out of this. "This isn't a game."

"Everything is a game," he shrugged. "Win and I shall leave."

"And your word to Godric?"

"I'll simply tell him I couldn't find you, that all of my leads were dead ends," he explained.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "He could command you to tell the truth."

"Well I would make sure it didn't come to that."

"And if you win?" she already knew the answer though.

Eric was already beginning towards the back of the cabin, to where a rickety door was still barely standing. "You'll come to Dallas with me."

She knew better to bet against a Viking Warrior. But he had no idea just how good of a warrior _she_ was.

"Daughter of Ares, in case you didn't know," she warned.

"I'll still win."

He was out the door without another word.

Celena sighed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. It had been more than a decade since she was discovered and uprooted once again. She had been hoping for another dozen years or so before she would have to find another home. And that home was certainly not going to be Dallas, Texas.

She was going to beat the Viking at his own game.

"Father, give me strength," she muttered under her breath, her eyes flickering upwards. A shudder suddenly swept through her, and a smirk slid across her lips. A father's reply.

Ensuring her grip on her sword was strong, Celena ripped open the door.

* * *

**A/N:** You are all amazing. I wasn't expecting the outpouring of support for this fic already. You all are fantastic.

As for the question many of you have asked concerning the pairing...the main pairing will be Godric/OC, but there may be minor and occasional Eric/OC or Godric/OC/Eric. I honestly haven't planned too deeply concerning pairings, and as I'm having way too much fun with Celena and Eric bickering, it may happen. But it is mainly Godric/OC.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Celena hated that Eric had been right.

Three Demigods stood before her. Two she didn't know. But the middle, she had known for the better part of several centuries.

He just wouldn't _die_.

"Aren't you tired of doing what daddy asks?" Celena played with the grasp on her sword as she eyed the two flanking Hephaestus' youngest son, Kyros.

Kyros chuckled as he stepped forward, his black as night orbs sweeping over her. A wicked grin spread across his lips as his gaze rose to meet hers. "At least I've met my father."

"That's very unfortunate for you."

His head tilted to the side. "Are you hiding behind your words again, dear Celena? Too afraid for a repeat?"

"As I remember, I had you on your back the last time," Celena reminded.

Kyros scowled. "I still stand here; just another failure."

Her orbs darkened. "It won't be a mistake I let happen again."

The Demigod to his right charged at her first, only a mere dagger in his grasp. He was younger, Celena could tell, easily dodging his attack and sending him flat onto his back. He was barely older than a teenager – he hadn't even reached maturity for a Demigod. Hephaestus was growing desperate if he was sending practically newborns after her.

His army was weakening.

Or was he just that confident?

It did nothing to ease her worry as the next came from her left. She side swept him with ease, sending him to the ground just as easily as the first. Her sword met with the boy as he began to rise, pressing the blade to his throat.

"You are so young; don't be so foolish to follow these idiots," she tried to reason with him. "Go back to your family. Bring honour to them. Don't die because of this."

"Recruiting, Celena? That's unlike you," Kyros snickered. "I'm a bit disappointed already that you brought a friend."

"You were brought here because he found me. That's the only reason _you're_ here," she snapped back before returning to the boy.

Only he wasn't there.

Teleportation.

Crap.

Celena sighed as she turned to find the boy back at Kyros' side. He eyed his leader hesitantly, however, and it was the only hope she had for him. He needed to realize this mission would only lead to his death should he follow Kyros and his father. She hadn't survived this long to be taken down by a teenager.

A roar and scream filled the night sky and Celena's blood boiled. The Viking was already winning. Damn it.

She had her first defeat not long after, though. The second that had charged rose to his feet behind her. She caught his movement out the corner of her eye, using her sword to block his own dagger, knocking it to the ground. She kicked it away as she gave the Demigod a look of warning.

"This won't end well for you."

A smirk identical to Kyros' spread across his lips as another dagger appeared in his hand, materializing out of thin out. She cursed the gifts the teenager held, and barely had time to move out of the way before the blade could find itself protruding from her. The tip, however, ripped through her side in her attempt to avoid more damage. It felt barely more than a tickle as she struck him through the heart. The Demigod fell to the ground, his eyes wide and lifeless. A part of her wanted to feel the sorrow and guilt that she had killed yet another being, but her inheritance from her father left her without a care. He had just been another enemy, another casualty in a war that had been waging for 3,500 years.

"Isn't this enough, Kyros? How many more men do you need to…" her words were cut off as a golden rope suddenly wrapped around her neck, yanking her hard to the ground.

Celena grunted as her free hand flew to the rope, finding it glowing as it kept her prisoned to the grassy floor. Her orbs followed the rope that was in fact a whip that Kyros gleefully controlled. Of course his father would ensure he had the greatest of weapons to use against her. She was stronger, of course.

Raising her sword, Celena meant to cut herself free, but a new rope branched from the original whip, grasping onto her wrist and forcing it to the ground. She struggled, searching within herself for every ounce of energy she could muster. It was no use.

"Well look at you, all defeated," Kyros' laugh echoed as he approached, kneeling at her side. He reached a hand out, the backs of his fingers caressing her cheek. She flinched away from his touch, only for the whip to tighten around both her neck and wrist.

"Daddy give you a new toy?" her teeth clenched. He couldn't kill her, not permanently. His father had spent millenniums searching for the relic that could end her immortal existence, but had never been successful in finding it. She doubted that had changed. No, Kyros was merely enjoying taunting her. He enjoyed watching as she died over and over again. Celena couldn't wait for the day that his blood would be on her hands.

Only he wouldn't awaken like she could.

"You're going to have quite the evening," his gaze dropped to her side, his smirk widening. The wound was already infected, he could tell. It wouldn't take long until she was squirming in agony. It was too bad he would have to miss it. "I wish I could watch."

"Don't worry, you can watch your own death," her fingers wiggled around her sword, but the cord around her wrist tightened until she was certain the bones would break.

"But not today," Kyros rose. "You cannot escape your fate, Celena. Your death is near. Your _true_ death. And then father shall rule."

"I don't think Daddy is going to be doing much of anything, should I live or die," she spat out. "I don't think Zeus likes him too much. Granddaughter, and all," her nails dug at the end of the whip around her neck. "Either kill me, Kyros, or take your empty threats and leave."

"We'll be seeing each other again soon," he promised.

And then they were gone.

She didn't understand. They just left. They just walked away and left.

Something more was going on, and Celena was worried.

"Only one? I'm disappointed," Eric appeared beside the Goddess' only defeat, an eyebrow raised as he nudged the body with his foot. "I have two bodies to account for. Your father would be ashamed."

She hardly heard a word he was saying, her gaze trained on where Kyros and his follower had disappeared. Why had they just left? There had barely even been an attempt on her life. Only threats that still rang in her ear.

"Come now, Goddess, lets not drag this out," Eric strode over to the fallen girl. "I believe there is a bet that I just won."

"It shouldn't have been that easy," she muttered to herself, her eyebrows furrowing. "They just left, just like that."

"Perhaps I scared them off," the Viking smirked to himself. It wouldn't be the first time.

"They don't scare easily," Celena shook her head. "They've never just left before. There's more to this. Something's happening, something's wrong."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Stop with the dramatics. They're gone, which means we can as well."

He grasped her by the arm without another work and yanked her to her feet. Celena hissed the moment she was upright, shoving the vampire's hand from her with a dark glare.

"Do that again, and you won't have a hand," she warned before her hand flew to her side, stifling a wince.

But Eric heard her, his gaze moving to her now bloodied shirt. Brushing her hand away, he inspected where her shirt had been ripped. "Did the poor Goddess get a scratch?"

"I will not warn you again," she stepped out of his reach, the palm of her hand pressing against the wound. It was small and minuscular compared to the battle scars she had received in the past. They always healed after a night's rest, if not a few hours later. But this felt different. The pain was a constant throbbing, excruciating if she moved too quickly. Pain was different for her. She could be stabbed over and over again, and she would barely feel a thing. Even in death, pain was nothing more than an annoying tickle. Nothing like this, however.

Eric sighed as he lifted his hands. "My apologies, princess."

Celena's eyes narrowed. "I believe I warned you about calling me that."

His smirk only grew wider. "Enough stalling. I won, if you recall. Off to Dallas, yes?"

There were countless excuses she could use. She could render him immobile even, and escape. But what would that prove? She couldn't remain here. Now that Hephaestus knew of her whereabouts, it wasn't safe. Once again, she would have to move on. And with her wound, Celena doubted she would be able to get very far that night. Lingering would only cause them to return. She couldn't risk that.

She hated the fact that she lost.

She _never_ lost.

"Trying to get out of it?" Eric braced himself to take her by force if need be.

Celena sighed as her shoulders fell, exhaustion falling over her features. For the first time since laying his eyes on her that evening, Eric could see the beginning of her true age. She may appear as young as some of his infamous conquests, but she was anything but. Thousands of years were taking a toll on her, just as he had witnessed with his own maker.

"I'm sure you'll return soon enough," he gestured to the cabin. Though he wasn't sure why anyone would want to.

"I doubt I will be seeing Bulgaria anytime soon," Celena shook her head. "It's not safe. The cleaners will be here soon enough. It would not be wise to be here when they arrive."

"Please don't tell me the fight has left you," he quite enjoyed how feisty she was.

"I'm a woman of my word," she begrudgingly stepped forward. "I'm assuming we'll be taking flight?"

Eric frowned. She was giving in this easily? "Just like that? If I knew a mere battle was enough to make you comply, I would have led with that."

"I agreed to some silly wager and I lost. And anyways, it's no longer safe here; for anyone."

"I'm a little disappointed."

"And I really don't care. Are we leaving or not, Northman," the pain was beginning to grow worse. She wanted to get this out of the way, to rip the band aid off as quickly as she could.

Eric snickered as he nodded. If she wanted to obey, who was he to argue? Grasping the Goddess around the waste, Eric tugged her to his side. His other arm moved downwards, but he hissed as the silver of her sword dug into the palm of his hand.

"Don't you dare," she warned. Celena would not be carried like a little child.

The Viking grinned. "If you insist."

Tucked under his arm, shifting to ensure her beloved sword would not reach any bare skin, Eric took off into the night sky.

* * *

Celena forgot how much she had enjoyed flying. Godric had taken her plenty of times, always at her insistence. She loved the freedom, the ability to just leave, to never be tethered down to one location. Roaming free, on the ground and in the sky, it had been so liberating when she was younger. How things had changed. All she wished for now was a home, one that she knew she would never truly have.

"Lost in thought, Prin…"

"I can still castrate you," she threatened, shooting him a glare as they began descending. Frowning, she peeked over Eric's shoulder to find themselves overtop of a brightly lit city. "What are you doing?"

"It's nearing dawn," he explained, his pace quickening until he dropped to the ground in an abandoned alleyway. "I for one would not like to burst into flames. But if you insisted…"

"Where are we?" Celena shoved his arm away the moment their feet were back on solid ground. She clenched her teeth together as she stumbled away from the vampire, her side burning in agony. She needed to rest, to sleep and wait for the wound to heal itself. If it even would.

"Lisbon," Eric eyed her carefully, his orbs flickering to where she held her side. He was curious that he couldn't smell the blood. He had been curious he hadn't been able to smell her at all. Was she able to hide her scent? It would make sense. He doubted even at a thousand years, he would be able to control himself around a living Goddess.

"Already?" Celena was mildly surprised at his speed. Godric had always been fast; it was a gift Eric must have inherited.

He chuckled at her surprise. "I should be insulted," at her glare, he continued. "I'll arrange for Anubis air to take us to Dallas tomorrow at sunset."

"That will be fine," she gazed around the alley. "Are you to sleep here in the open, or was there a reason he came here?"

"So impatient," Eric rolled his eyes. "Come come, _Princess_."

"I _will_ follow through with my word, Viking."

Eric merely laid a hand on the mid of her back as he led her out of the alley and around to the front of the building they had landed behind. A vampire hotel, of course, Celena noted as he brought them to a stop just outside of the entrance.

"You're hiding your scent, aren't you? You're blood as well," he glanced down at her.

She was impressed. "You're not as stupid as you look."

"That hurts," he shrugged off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders before she could protest. "They may not smell you, but if they see the blood, they'll be interested."

He was right. The one thing Celena hated more than being beaten was being outsmarted. Curse this Viking.

As if reading her thoughts, Eric smirked down at her form. "I have to say, you look quite good in my jacket. I can just imagine what you'll look like in one of my shirts."

"Keep dreaming, Northman."

"Come now, _Princess, _lets thaw some of that ice," he tapped her cheek before returning his hand to her back and leading her inside of the hotel.

He left her standing alone in the lobby as he moved to the check in counter. Celena rolled her eyes at the googley eyes every female, and even some males, in the hotel sent Eric as he moved passed them. She could admit that he was good looking, but this display was just pathetic. She was jut as disgusted as she caught a few gazes focused on her. She sent them sharp looks, before wrapping Eric's jacket around herself. The Goddess needed to keep herself calm to compose her abilities. It may have been well over a thousand years since she had lost control, but her side was throbbing just enough to cause the energy swirling inside of her to become frantic.

"Ready?" Eric appeared at her side, nodding at the elevators behind her.

She had never been so happy to be trapped in an elevator with a vampire before. Sighing as the doors closed after them, Celena leaned against the wall and began breathing heavily. With each breath, however, the sharp pain would course through her, her hand beginning to shake as it continued to press against the bloody gash. She had been hopeful that it would heal even the slightest during flight, but it had only grown worse.

Eric kept a close eye on her, but didn't utter a word about the wound. When they arrived at their floor, Celena was relieved they were only a room down, hurrying inside the moment Eric unlocked the door. One step into the room, however, and a wave of nausea fell over her as her legs threatened to give out. She did her best to keep herself upright as she gazed around the room.

"One bed?" she raised an eyebrow at the vampire. "I'm not that kind of woman, Northman."

"Goddess of Love, and yet so hateful towards any advances."

"You're confusing me with my mother," she moved further into the room, her gaze falling on the couch. Celena considered if it would make her seem weak to immediately go towards it, but after a moment she didn't care. Her legs heavy, she moved around the coffee table and gently lowered herself down onto the plush cushion.

Eric continued to watch her as he walked over to the mini fridge at the bar and grabbed himself a Tru Blood. He detested the crap, but he doubted the Goddess would be offering anytime soon. It was too close to dawn to be requesting a donor, and after what had occurred earlier, Eric wasn't so sure an unknown guest would be the wisest of decisions.

"I assume we'll be safe here for the day," he fetched the bottle out of the microwave, his lip curling in disgust at the first sip.

"They wouldn't be stupid enough to piss off an entire hotel of Vampires," Celena shook her head, shifting to find even an ounce of relief from the throbbing. "They don't like it when the odds aren't in their favour."

"I wasn't aware Demigods were smart creatures."

"Usually they aren't," she mused, her lips twitching ever so slightly. "And I wasn't aware you actually drank that shit."

"Why, are you offering?"

"Would you like to be poisoned?"

Eric's eyebrows rose. Poisoned?

Celena chuckled. "How much did Godric actually tell you about me."

"Not enough it seems," he settled in the chair across from her. "Care to elaborate?"

"Not really," she leaned her head back, her eyes fluttering close as she pressed her palm harder into her side. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but the pain was still very real.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not just asking."

Celena snorted. "You came searching for a Goddess that you barely know anything about? Isn't that a bit foolish of you?"

"You haven't exactly impressed me."

"Give it time."

Eric leaned back in the chair, content on just watching her. He could have offered to heal her, though he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to be tied to a Goddess. Especially one that was Godric's. He was once again unimpressed with the girl. One little scratch and this was how she acted? Eric expected more from all of Godric's praise.

"As tantalizing as this conversation has been, I need to rest," Celena waved a hand at the king sized bed. "And it's nearing Dawn; you need your rest as well."

The Viking raised an eyebrow. "Are you acting as the gentleman and offering me the bed? How modern of you."

"I've slept in worse places," Celena began lowering herself onto her back across the couch. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as the mattress that had taken the Goddess a week to decide on in Bulgaria, but it was better than the ground she had slept on the first thousand or so years of her life. "Now shut up so I can heal."

"Aren't you just the sweetest," he snorted, but rose from the chair anyways. His barely touched blood sat on the coffee table forgotten as he sent the Goddess one last glance before moving towards the bed. "You _will_ answer my questions eventually, _Princess_. It's a long flight to Dallas."

Celena ignored him, her eyes closing as she forced herself to rest. Using the little energy she could muster, she was tucked into a dark solitude, far from the rest of the world. Only the memories from a thousand years ago remained heavy on her mind.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm having way too much fun writing this! I have a heap of fantastic ideas that I'm excited to run with, so there may just be quick updates coming your way. There will be some more of Godric in the next chapter, with Celena and his first official meeting!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Her entire body felt like it was on fire.

She had only dozed off for an hour before the throbbing in her side had grown so painful, she had been forced right out of her blissful darkness. It felt like a thousand hot knives were digging into her, ripping her apart inch by inch. She had never felt such excruciating agony before in her lifetime.

And that scared her.

Celena had experienced death more times than she could ever count, but this was the first time she had ever desired it to come to her. It would be quicker, less painful than this torture.

But death never came for her, not even as her body began seizing violently, whimpers and cries sounding from her lips. She tried so desperately to keep the screams at bay, to keep what little dignity she had left. But eventually they too were echoing in the room.

Time felt like it was passing slowly as the torment continued. Seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like an eternity. Celena no longer had any sense of time, or even of reality. All she knew was the pain.

That and the energy that was coursing through her.

Celena struggled to contain herself, to maintain what little control that she could. She knew the consequences if the raw energy was released, if it seeped out of her and to the other occupants of the hotel. All hell would break loose.

"What the hell is happening?" a voice seethed from the other end of the couch.

The voice sounded so far away, but she could recognize it as Eric's.

He had woken up long before he should have, only an hour after he had fallen into his day rest. Never had he been woken with such a start before, nor had he ever felt such an array of emotions. Not even when he had been first turned had he wanted to both fuck and kill to this degree. It was all the Viking could think about, his fangs aching as they slid from his gums. His arousal grew hard, almost painful, as he remained restrained in his pants. He wanted nothing more than to find the closest being and fuck them into oblivion. And then he would rip into their flesh, draining them dry of every single drop of blood he possibly could.

He was losing control.

And she could see that.

Through heavy lidded eyes, Celena watched the vampire consider her shaking form, his eyes raking along her body. She was no longer able to hide her scent, and she knew that along with the energy she couldn't control, the Viking was becoming erratic. She couldn't blame him. She was radiating love and war, lust and hunger. She truly was her parent's child in that moment. Not even thousands of years of control could aid her in shielding herself.

"E-Eric," she called to him, doing her best to push through the agonizing torture. She needed to focus on him, to reign him back in.

Before he got himself killed.

"Go," Celena urged him, her orbs darting towards the door. Even if he were just outside in the hallway, the desires wouldn't be as strong. The four walls around her barely were able to contain the mass of energy rolling off of her, but as she mustered whatever strength she could, it was the only thing that was going to protect him. "You need to go."

The plea caused Eric to pause, a flicker of his calm, stoic self, appearing in his darkened gaze. His stare fell to her side, and the bloodlust was momentarily forgotten. The wound seemed deeper than it had only hours ago, bleeding harder that it had been.

"I thought you were supposed to heal?" his voice was low, his hands curling into tight fists as he remained rooted to the spot. His nostrils were flaring with her scent, and it was taking everything that he had to not take her right then and there.

Celena clenched her teeth together. Why wasn't he leaving? "You need to leave. You need to…fuck!" a scream ripped from her throat, another wave of her great power escaping it's containment.

Eric stumbled backwards as he was hit dead in the chest. That was it. That was all it took.

He was beside the couch in seconds, hovering over her moments later as his fangs dove for her neck. Pressed against her pulsing vein, Eric gleefully prepared himself for the onslaught of her delicious blood. Before he could sink his fangs into her, however, he felt a sharp tug. But it wasn't physical. The Goddess beneath him barely had enough strength to whimper for him to stop. No, this tug was deep inside of him, a place only two others could reach.

His blood bond with his maker and child flooded through him. He could feel Pam's worry and annoyance. He could feel Godric's calmness and concern. He tried to shove the opposing emotions aside, to continue in his search for his prize. But he couldn't. They were grasping onto him, onto his sanity, onto what little rational that he had, and they sent what they could of their own. Pam concentrated on his lust, on his sexual frustration, while Godric latched onto his hunger to make it his own.

Within only moments, his thoughts began to clear, the haze of urges slowly beginning to fade away until he was releasing Celena's shoulders, not even realizing he had been grasping tightly onto them. Rising above her, Eric cursed under his breath when found her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He didn't understand what was happening to her, what was causing this, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be bringing a dead Goddess back to Godric. That would only send his depressed maker over the edge.

"Damn it, Princess," he growled, ripping his wrist open and grasping onto her chin as he forced her lips to part. "You need to drink."

She was useless, unable to hear or comprehend anything that was occurring around her. A string of Old Norse sounded above her, but that was all she grasped of reality.

"Come on, Princess," he pressed his wrist against her lip and tipped her chin up as his blood dripped past her tongue and down her throat. She wouldn't swallow, however, causing his patience to begin to wane. "Drink, you little brat!"

Frustrated, Eric began massaging her throat, a feat nearly impossible to do as her body shook.

"I swear if you die on me before I get you to Godric, I will resurrect you and kill you myself," he grunted with narrowed eyes, reopening the wound. "Drink the god damn blood, Princess."

It took ripping his wrist open a third time before he began noticing a change. The shaking began to calm, her scent tucking itself back away. As he glanced at her side, he was relieved to find the skin healing. There was no way he was going to deal with Godric's wrath if he hadn't been able to keep a mere girl alive. Goddess or not.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," he muttered to himself as he lifted his wrist back to his fangs. A hand flew out to stop him, however, before he could give her him blood once more.

"Enough," her voice was tiny, sounding more human than he thought possible.

He raised an eyebrow but complied as he moved off of her, settling instead on the ground with his back leaning against the coffee table. He did his best to compose himself as Celena's breathing grew calmer. He could still feel the reminisce of the Goddess's power, of her raw energy. It was still stirring deep inside of him, just waiting to be set free. If it weren't for his maker and child, he likely would have lost himself again. But both were doing their best to keep him under control.

"I seriously underestimated you," Eric admitted, his gaze sweeping over the Goddess. Her body was still, her chest rising every so often. Her heart was no longer beating in a frenzy, instead a gently thumping that was almost relaxing to the Viking. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Celena admitted, her mouth dry. She licked her lips as her eyes fluttered close as she waited for the remaining of her body to heal. She didn't know the effect of vampire's blood, never ingesting the substance before. It would heal a human in seconds, she knew, but a Goddess? No, it was working at a much slower rate. But it was working, and she had to admit that she was grateful for the Viking. "I suppose I owe you a thank you."

"Lets just say you owe me," he mused, eyeing her closely. "What was that, Princess? I've never seen anything like that before."

But she hadn't been lying. Celena didn't know what had just occurred. She tried to remember throughout her thousands of years of ever coming across anything similar, but she was just at a loss for words.

The only possible explanation was a suspicion she never wanted to have.

"Hm?" Eric prodded. He wanted answers. He wanted to know exactly what had nearly just tuned him into a raging lunatic that would have been no better than a newborn vampire. "What did you do to me?"

Celena slowly began to rise, despite her body's aches and pains. A large hand swiftly came down onto her shoulder, however, forcing her onto her back.

"Just rest, _your highness_. And explain," he ordered, not caring at all that she was a powerful Goddess. He was only realizing now just how powerful she truly was. "What happened? What was that?"

"Each God or Goddess is gifted with their own ability. My mother is the Goddess of Love, as you know, and my father the God of War. As their daughter, I inherited a fraction of each of theirs, but I was also born with my own," the Goddess began.

Eric's eyebrows furrowed. "At that tiny little shack your tried to call your home, there was a point I felt weak, as if I should have fallen into my day rest. That was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she nodded, turning her head to watch the Viking's reaction. "I have the gift of manipulating energy."

"And you didn't utilize that against the Demigods?" he raised an eyebrow.

"We are born with our gifts suppressed. We train to control them as we get older. When we reach adulthood, we are supposed to become one with our abilities."

"Supposed to?"

Celena smiled sadly. "I wasn't raised in Olympus. I wasn't raised like a normal Goddess. While my gifts grew, I never became a _true_ Goddess, I supposed you could say. My abilities are still bound, locked away inside of me. They always have been, and I suppose they may always will be."

There was a frown on Eric's lips. He was wishing now he had asked his maker more questions about the Goddess. What Godric had told him didn't sizzle any of his intrigue. "So then what happened to you, Princess? Since we're playing story time."

"I wasn't lying, Eric," she shrugged, though worry was apparent on her face. "I've never felt anything so…painful before. And I've endured a great deal of torture in my lifetime."

"There has to be an explanation."

Celena chewed on her bottom lip nervously. It was such a human thing to do, that Eric was surprised at the action. She appeared so normal, but even when he first found her, she was so very much _other_, that to see such a human trait, it was unnerving. Something was wrong, he knew. And he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't to find out what.

"The only explanation is a suspicion, and it is one that could lead to a war I had hoped to never be a part of."

It was all she could tell him. Until she spoke to her sources, until _someone_ listened to her prayers and shed some light on whatever had happened. Kyros' threats continued to haunt her, and that only made her more concerned. Something was coming, something that was going to destroy everything in its path.

Including her and everything she held dearly, she was sure.

"There's nothing more that can be done," she began to rise again, shooting the Viking a glare when he tried to stop her. Rolling his eyes, Eric sat back and watched as she rose with her back now against the arm of the couch. "Thank you, Eric. I mean that. If you hadn't of given me your blood, I can't even imagine the chaos it would have brought this entire hotel had that energy escaped this room."

The sincerity in her words caused Eric's frown to deepen. He wasn't one for mushy. He wasn't one for kindness or caring. He was a Viking for fucks sakes.

"Don't mention. I mean it. Don't. I have a reputation to uphold," his eyes narrowed. "I'm sure it was nothing different than Godric has done in the past."

"You'd be surprised," she shook her head. "Yours was the first blood I've had."

This surprised him. "Not once in the thousand years the two of you travelled, you ever had his blood? Not even when the two of you fucked?"

Celena blinked at his abruptness, and couldn't help the light pink flush that warmed her cheeks. "I'll have you know Godric and I were never _together_."

Eric roared with laughter. His maker, the one who used to fuck and kill just as much as the Viking, had never taken this Goddess even once? "He was an idiot."

"He was a friend, and was kind enough not to throw himself at me, nor I him," she childishly felt she needed to defend herself.

That smirk she almost missed returned to the blonde's lips. "Travelling with the daughter of Aphrodite, and never having her? What a missed opportunity."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Keep this up, and I won't correct your maker's terrible story telling of our time together."

This immediately caused the Viking to quiet.

"But not now," she quickly dashed his hopes. "You have the bleeds; you need to rest."

Eric sighed in resignation, but nodded, rising to his feet. He collected her in his arms just as quickly, much to her grief.

"Put me down, Viking," she snarled, glaring darkly at the smug vampire. "Now."

"The next time you _lose control_ I don't want to go very far. You'll do better beside me, Princess," he walked them across the room to the bed, dumping her onto one side.

"I thought I warned you about calling me that," she would have sent him a warning pulse of energy, but she was barely able to do much more than keep her eyes open at that point. Celena knew Eric's blood would only last for so long until the poison that had seeped inside of her was to return. It was clear now that whatever weapon Kyros had given his minion, it was much more than an average blade. The more she delved into her worries, however, the more concerned she became.

There was only one weapon that was able to cause so much destruction, and it was supposed to be tucked away with Hades in the underworld.

* * *

**A/N: **A big thank you to everyone that has taken an interest in this fic, I appreciate every reader a whole lot. I love each and every one of you for even reading this fic, and I hope you all continue to do so!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

The Goddess knew she was dreaming before the darkness even morphed into a scene of the hotel bedroom. She could sense the lust that surrounded her, that enveloped her entire body. She almost wanted to laugh at the vampire that thought he could trick her. Remaining there, lying on the bed, she allowed the hands to roam over her form for a few moments, letting the lust build around them. When she was able to absorb enough of the energy, she forced it right back into the original source.

Celena knocked them both out of the dream.

"Well isn't this an interesting development?" Eric's sleepy tone was sarcastic as Celena shoved his shoulders into the bed, her body straddling his. "What a way to wake."

"You seem to forget who I am, Viking," she hissed with narrowed eyes. "Trying to seduce the daughter of Aphrodite in a dream? Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"I was hoping not," he admitted, his eyes growing more aware as the light tight shutters rose from the windows. His hands rose to clasp her hips, tugging her down onto his hardened erection. "But I must say, it is a welcome surprise."

She rolled her eyes at his arousal. It wasn't a surprise, the lust he had tried to shove through her now coursing in his veins. She could manipulate his energy just as he was able to manipulate her dreams. Only she was better.

"Simmer down, Eric," she moved to get off of him, but Eric's grasp tightened.

"Just because my maker was foolish, doesn't mean I am," he smirked up at her.

She was on her back, and she cursed him for once again getting the upper hand. It was the poison, she insisted, never wanting to admit defeat. Especially to a vampire – this one especially.

"Come on now, Goddess of love," he settled himself between her legs, moving so his erection pressed against her.

"I'm not my mother," her hands were on his chest. Just a bit of…yes, that was what she needed.

Eric groaned as she swiftly moved off of her, his hand on his chest where the zap of energy had been unleashed. "That's very rude, Princess."

"You'll get over it," glancing at the time, Celena tossed her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "Now come on, Viking. We have a flight, do we not?"

"I'd much rather stay in bed," he grumbled like a scored little boy.

The Goddess found a pile of fresh clothes sitting on a chair, and tried to wonder when they had appeared. Shrugged, she tossed the Viking his before moving into the bathroom.

"Don't forget who my father is, Vampire," she sent him a rare grin. "He doesn't quite like those that try and seduce me."

If possible, what little colour that was left, drained from his face. Ares was certainly not a force to be reckoned with.

* * *

"You promised me a story," Eric settled on the couch across from her.

Celena raised an eyebrow at the Viking. Their private flight had only just taken off, and he was already hounding her for answers. She shouldn't have promised him such, but what was she to do? He _had_ helped her, giving her his blood. Not that it had done very much. The poison was already attacking her, and Celena doubted she would still have a beating heart by the time they landed in Texas. But still, the vampire had kindly cared for her when he didn't need to.

She supposed she owed him _something_.

"Well, Princess?" the Viking smirked widely as he stretched his long legs across the leather, lounging with his arms crossed beneath his head. "I just _love_ story time."

The Goddess rolled her eyes but shifted in her own seat. She was impressed by the luxury Anubis Air offered. The entire cabin was even light tight, though a traveling coffin was sitting at the back of the jet, just in case they were delayed.

"What exactly do you want to know?" Celena knew she couldn't tell him everything. But just enough that it would satisfy his interest, and hopefully bore him from asking too many questions.

"How did you meet?" he immediately questions.

"Godric didn't tell you?"

"I'm honestly doubting if he told me anything that was true," Eric admitted, his gaze sweeping over her. He noticed the twinge of pain that crossed her otherwise perfectly masked expression. His blood was wearing off, he could see that, but she was stubbornly refusing to ask for any help.

She couldn't help but smile. "Godric has a habit of keeping certain things…hidden."

Eric snorted. "That's an understatement. It took a week before his underlings realized he was missing."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Missing?"

He lazily raised an eyebrow. "You know plenty about me, it seems, and yet you didn't even know that?"

What did he mean Godric had been Missing? "I don't keep tabs on him as much these days. It's too…" Celena trailed off, shaking her head. She was certainly not going to talk about _that_ with the Viking. There was a reason Eric didn't remember their first meeting, whatever that reason might be. She wouldn't bring it up unless it was Godric's choosing. She knew better than anyone to not interfere between Maker and Progeny. "What do you mean he was missing? You said he sent you to find me. Is he…"

"He's fine now," Eric assured, amused at the slight panic. "He was _taken_ by the Fellowship of the Sun. We were able to retrieve him about a week ago."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "How the hell was a 2,000-year-old vampire taken by a group of idiotic bigots?"

"Exactly," he caught her gaze. "How would he be?"

A sigh sounded from her lips as her eyes closed. What in the world had gotten into her old friend? "He wasn't taken, was he?"

"He hasn't admitted it, no," Eric was frowning now. "But I have my suspicions. The Godric I know would never have let some puny humans capture him."

"Which means he went on his own accord. But why?" It didn't make any sense to Celena. Why would Godric just hand himself over to the Fellowship of the Sun of all people? She had followed the radicals closely since the Great Revelation, especially those close to Godric and his family. They weren't soldiers; they weren't organized enough to even capture a newborn vampire. So how could any of this be true?

"Like I said, I have my suspicions," his feet returned to the ground quickly, his arms resting on his knees. "But we're not supposed to be talking about this. You're supposed to be telling me how the two of you met."

Celena could see the mixture of worry and fear in the Viking's orbs, and she didn't push him for more. Whatever was going on with his Maker, it was troubling Eric dearly. She would just have to get to the bottom of it once they landed. Or really, once she woke.

Letting her fingers gently slide across her side, pretending there was an itch, her breathing hitched. The wound was starting to open again. She did everything she could to keep her scent to herself. One whiff of her blood and she doubted the jet would survive the erratic vampire.

"You're delaying," he accused.

"Just getting my thoughts together," she lied, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear. "So, the story of how Godric and I met then?"

* * *

It had just been another battle, another war that had drawn her in. It was like a moth to a flame. If she was within distance, she would be in the middle of the bloodiest battle gleefully. She wasn't sure if it was the battle itself, or the pure destruction and chaos that gave her the high. But Celena didn't care. After over a thousand years, she had lost all caring.

Now all she needed was a live one. One that was drinking in celebration with their kinsmen. The lust was always high after the conclusion of a fight, and it was always the peak time to strike.

Moving towards the known camp of the victors, Celena wiped the bloodied blade of her beloved sword against the back of a fallen – one she had happily killed herself. When she was satisfied enough that it was clean until she found the nearest stream to clean it properly, the Goddess was ready for her next triumph. The high would wear off soon if she didn't find herself in someone's tent that night. And then the desires would just amount once again, forcing her to search out another blood bath. She deserved a moment of peace and quiet, at least for a little while.

A sound to her left caught her by surprise, however, stilling the Goddess. Her eyes closed as she forced her senses out, her hearing accelerated as she searched for the intruder. There were no footsteps, no snaps of twigs or crunching of leaves. But she could sense they were still there, eyes watching her closely. And then there it was, the stirring of life above her. There was no heartbeat, but she knew enough about the other beats that roamed the earth to know that such a thing didn't matter.

"You can come out," she called, her words still unsure of this new language she had picked up. It was easy for her these days to learn new cultures, to pick up the languages of the lands she crossed. But she had only entered this one a few full moons ago, and her skill wasn't quite up to par just yet. "I know you're there."

A form pounced to the ground behind her, but Celena didn't bother to hurry around. Her blade was held tightly in her grip, though she knew without a doubt that should whoever this creature was venture too close, their throat would be sliced without hesitation.

The heartless creature didn't approach, though, remaining where they were behind her. After a long moment, the Goddess slowly turned, intrigued that they hadn't even attempted to attack. When she finally caught sight of the creature, she was surprised he appeared to only be a boy around her own age. One peer into his blue orbs, however, told her he wasn't nearly as young as he appeared to be.

"Who are you?" Celena questioned, her head tilting as she took the boy in. His hair fell to the bottom of his earlobes, dirt tangling the dark locks. A tattoo circled his collarbone, with another on his arm. He wore nothing but raggedy cloth pants that were splattered with dirt and blood. What caught her attention was the blood that stained his mouth and chin.

She had a feeling what this boy was, and she was unsure if she should be on alert or not.

"You're name?" she spoke louder, demanding to be answered when the boy just stared at her.

"You're not human," he merely answered, his accent thick. He was of this land, Celena decided, remembering how the other men had spoken around her as she struck each and every single one to the ground. "What are you?"

"It's rude to answer with a question," she couldn't help but be intrigued by him, by this vampire.

Celena had kept her distance from the species, only if due to the lure of her blood. She had been warned of the stories even when she was a little girl, and then again by her brothers when they crossed paths in battle. Their blood drew many supernatural beings to them, but none would survive a taste.

"Godric," he finally replied. "Godric of Gaul."

"Well, Godric of Gaul," she offered the tiniest of bows, her gaze never leaving his. "It's an honour to make your acquaintance. But what is a vampire doing here, and so close to dawn?"

His eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "You know what I am."

"You reek of death. And the blood," she motioned to his lips. "It gave it away."

Godric didn't try to wipe the blood away, and Celena was even more intrigued by this creature. "What are you?"

"Someone you truly do not want to know," the warning was slight, but there. "You should return to your lair, Godric of Gaul. It will no longer be safe out here soon enough."

He didn't speak at first, instead staring at the Goddess as if trying to figure out who – and what – she was. He would never fathom she was the daughter of Love and War, but it amused her that he was trying. Eventually, and as the dark sky began to lighten to a deep blue, the vampire finally spoke.

"I cannot return there," his voice was softer than before. He almost looked a little lost, and Celena felt confused by the emotion.

"And why is that exactly?"

"I killed my maker. They are searching for me," he stated bluntly.

Celena's eyes widened. She had heard stories about the bond between maker and progeny. To lose one, it was like losing a limb. Never in her existence had she heard of a child killing their sire. It was unheard of. Especially one so young, and she predicted he was. Celena doubted he was more than half a century from the stillness of energy surrounding him. The elder vampires, the few she had skirted around in the past, were always consumed with powerful, raw power that wrapped around them like flickering flames.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

His gaze hardened as he licked his lips, ridding himself of some of the stained blood. "I refused to be a slave any longer."

The answer struck the Goddess, and she was surprised by the compassion that she felt. It was muting the high she should have been on, the desire to seek out lust and hunger. Instead, she felt sated by just staring at this Vampire, gently grasping onto what little energy he held. He had a kind soul, deep within the monster that raged in his orbs. It was unusual to find, and she couldn't help but be intrigued.

"You're searching for blood, aren't you?" Celena began to realize. Godric's eyes darted to the lifeless bodies that lay at their feet before sending her a quick nod. "Most of their blood would have run cold hours ago."

"I have no excuse to be picky any longer."

Willing to do whatever he needed to to survive. That was something the Goddess could relate to.

"There is a cave not even a mile from here that I have been seeking shelter in. It's rather deep; the sun would never reach deep in its depth," there was a gentle clap of thunder in the distance, and Celena forced herself not to scowl. Her grandfather had no reason to object. After all, she hadn't seen a single soul from Olympus in nearly three hundred years.

And she knew she could trust this vampire. Celena wasn't sure why, or even how, but she knew that she could. Never in her lifetime would she ever doubt her instincts. Her uncle had taught her as much.

"I promise not to harm you," Celena saw his hesitance. He had been taught enough to know never to trust another living being with his safety. Smart vampire. "And I assure you, my vow means a great deal."

"Will you tell me what you are?"

"Perhaps one day," a smile slid across her lips as she turned and stepped over a severed limb. "Now come along, Godric of Gaul. Before the sun takes you."

He followed in the trees behind her, only dropping back to the ground as they approached the cave.

* * *

"Why did you help him?" Eric questioned curiously. "He was so young when he killed his maker; he could have killed you in your sleep."

"I trusted him," Celena shrugged. "I can't explain it, but I did."

His forehead wrinkled as he tried to process all that I had told him. "And what after?"

Celena chuckled. "You're insatiable."

A snicker sounded from the vampire as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh you have no idea, Princess."

She struggled not to smile. As infuriating as the Viking may be, he was good company. If only she had realized that all those centuries ago. But no, their paths couldn't have crossed again. It was for his own safety.

Sighing, Celena laid her hand back onto her side, frowning when she felt the wetness of her shirt. Eric caught the grimace and was kneeling before her in an instant.

"My blood did nothing, did it?" he shooed her hand away, lifting the fabric of the shirt to inspect the wound. His fangs clicked into place the moment he spied the blood, but he never attempted to taste her.

"It healed it for a time. Though I'm afraid it may have just accelerated the poison now," her eyes fluttered close, her head resting against the headrest. "I don't believe I'm going to last until we land, unfortunately."

Eric stared up at her in a panic. "You cannot die. Godric would never forgive me."

She offered him a tiny, encouraging smile. "Have no worries, it shouldn't take me long to wake again."

"That's not…"

"He really didn't tell you much of anything, did he?" she shocked both of them when she reached a hand out, cupping his cheek. "You must make a great maker, Viking Warrior."

Again he was looking at her in confusion. "You know about…"

"Pam? Yes." She nodded. "She was a good find, Eric. She compliments you very well. Very loyal. Though lazy, I've been told."

"Are you stalking me, Princess?" the worry still held in his eyes as he tried to tease her.

"I like to keep tabs on those that I care about."

"I didn't realize I qualified for the caring of someone I never knew existed up until a week ago," he had to admit, her warmth was appealing, and he found himself moving into her touch. When he realized what he was doing, he quickly returned to the couch across from her.

"You're Godric's progeny; of course you qualify," her smile was strained as a pulse of pain shot through her. "I think it will be much quicker this time."

"What can I do? My blood…"

"Will do nothing but prolong the inevitable. If I just die now, everything will heal much quicker," she assured him. "I'll wake as good as new."

Eric didn't look convinced.

"Tell me when you met Pam. I only learned about her a few decades afterwards. I'd like to know how you met. A story for a story?" Celena needed her mind off the pain. "The distraction would be welcomed."

Eric couldn't believe it, but he obliged.

* * *

**A/N: **I can't seem to stop writing this fic. Far too many ideas brewing. And we have Celena and Godric's first meeting! I'm excited to write more of their flashbacks. Let me know if there's anything specific you would like to see between the two! (smut does not count, shhhh)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

It was late evening when Godric settled into his living room, the nest emptied of everyone. He had been alone since his return from the Fellowship, only speaking to Isabel occasionally should she require anything from the Sheriff. His underlings understood he needed space, that he needed to be alone. And while they all worried for him, they never questioned his actions.

He was lost in thought that night, the worry for his child consuming him. The sudden desires from him the previous evening caused him unrest during the day. He had been forced to feed from the handful of bagged blood he had refused when he first arrived back at the nest. But the hunger he stole from his child had become his own, and it took every ounce of strength not to search out a live feed.

Closing his eyes, Godric sought out the frail link between he and Eric. He was surprised when he found his child so close, his eyes quickly snapping back open when the front door of the house slammed open.

"Godric!" Eric's voice roared throughout the house.

The ancient was before him in the hallway in an instant. His gaze was immediately drawn to the brunette his Viking held. It was a sight he thought he would never witness again, one that he had often found himself daydreaming of.

"I'm sorry. I failed you," Eric dropped his head in shame as he cradled the Goddess. She had been true to her word, and had only lasted half of the flight before Eric was begging for her to wake once more. How could she have been so calm when she slipped away? She had only promised that she would see him soon before that was it.

Godric searched for a heartbeat, any indication that Celena was alive and well. But he found none. Sighing, he motioned to his child to follow him. The two darted through the house before arriving at Godric's room, the Goddess being laid carefully in the middle of the bed.

"Is it true?" Eric shot Godric a hopeful glance. "Will she actually wake?"

"I told you she was immortal, did I not?" he assured him, tucking the girl underneath the sheets. "She will wake soon. I don't remember this lasting more than a few hours – half a day at most."

Eric considered his promise before nodding. He could feel the certainty through their bond, and was forced to believe his maker. "Speaking of which, we have much to discuss. It seems you've left _a lot_ out."

Godric chuckled softly as he gently swept the strands of hair out of the Goddess's face. She was just as he last remembered, not even a single hair different than when they last were together. "I'm sure she has told you plenty already."

"Not nearly enough. Care to fill me in?"

"I'm sure she would enjoy the pleasure of doing so," Godric shook his head. "Now tell me what occurred, Eric. How did this happen?"

"I think you already know," Eric assumed before hesitating. "Thank you for your aid, father."

Godric sent him a quick glance before gazing back down at the Goddess. "It's rare that she loses control of her abilities. I've only witnessed it a few times, and it isn't a pleasant occurrence."

The Viking frowned as he rubbed his chest, remembering the sensation far too well. "She is interesting, this one. And you've never had her, she was quick to inform me. Really, father? That treasure, and not even a single touch?"

The ancient ushered the younger vampire out of the room, closing the door until only a small gap remained. "We were never like that. It was different between us."

Eric eyes his maker closely as he remained by the bedroom door. Godric didn't seem to want to stray too far from the Goddess, and from the glances he sent the closed door every so often, Eric could tell he wanted nothing more than to be at her side. It was curious, to the vampire, how the two had parted all those years ago when it was obvious they had been close.

"Go," Eric rolled his eyes. "Its nearly dawn anyways, and I need to feed. Let me know when she wakes? I would like to kill her myself for letting herself die when I explicitly told her not to."

"She has a habit of not listening, I'm afraid," Godric mused with a small smile. "Thank you, my son, for bringing her to me. I know it must not have been easy."

"Both of you certainly owe me," Eric twisted and sought out the kitchen. He was going to need several bags of blood if he was going to keep his hands to himself. The desire to mount the girl was still there, even if she was lying in that room dead.

Godric watched silently as Eric turned a closer before he slipped back into the bedroom. He settled in the chair across the room, his gaze never leaving Celena. He knew what awaited him when she woke, and while he wasn't looking forward to their discussion, seeing those striking blue eyes that could look deep within anyone's soul, would make it worth it.

* * *

There was no warning when Celena woke. One moment, her body was completely still, completely dead to the world. And the next, she was awake.

Her eyes were wide as she lifted herself up into a siting position. Her hand was held over her heart as the rhythmic beat lulled her into a sense of calm. She gasped in several breaths before her blurry eyes began to clear. It was always so disorienting when she woke from death. Several moments passed as she remembered the events leading up to the painful death, a frown settled on her lips. By the feel of where she was, she had been laid on a bed.

She was in Dallas.

Which meant…

Celena cursed herself for not realizing she was joined by another sooner. Her senses were slow to return to her as she quickly slid off the bed and to her feet. But her legs were still heavy and shaky, and she would have fallen to the floor if a pair of arms hadn't caught her.

But she knew those arms.

She knew those arms far too well. Not even a thousand years would take the memory of them away from her.

"Careful," Godric warned. "You've only just awakened."

Her eyes squeezed shut as Godric righted her back on her feet, his arms securely around her waist to keep her upright. He didn't move otherwise, never forcing her to open her eyes to face him. She wasn't sure she was ready just yet.

"How long?" Celena managed out, and was surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded.

Godric hesitated as he eyed her closely. Her eyes were still shut tightly, her head turned to the side. Her arms were held to her chest, as if trying to put distance between them even in this position. He knew after a thousand years, they couldn't go back to how things used to be, especially not after how they parted. But she looked as if he was the very last person she would ever want to be in the presence of, and that saddened him.

Sighing, Godric released her once she was steadied. Celena gladly placed distance between them, backing up until a bedside table stopped her. Her hand flew backwards until connecting with a lamp, a dim light now filling the room. Only then did her eyes slowly open.

"Hello Celena," his voice was even as her blue orbs met his for the first time in a millennia.

Celena had never been very nervous in her lifetime. She didn't ever have much of a reason to be. She was confident in her fighting, confident in her abilities. There was never a time she needed to doubt herself. Only when it ever came to this particular vampire did she question everything. He was her one true weakness, even after all this time.

"Godric," it felt familiar – too familiar – to say his name. It was difficult not for her to smile and throw her arms around him. But they were no longer the friends or allies they once were. They were nothing but old memories of one another. She still didn't even understand why Godric had sent his progeny for her after so long.

As the silence rang between them, the Goddess had to look away. His stare was always so intense, so hypnotizing. When they travelled together, she had grown used to it. She could stare right on back at him with the same intensity even. But it was unnerving now.

"How long was I…" she took in the room. Eric had done as he promised, taking her to Godric's nest after they had landed. She guessed there had been no troubles, or at least she hoped so. The demigods would have an idea of where she was going, since they had followed Eric to her. But either they were slow to follow, or they were content to leave her alone.

It was the latter that concerned her.

"It's night, I suppose," she moved around the vampire, doing anything she could to evade that stare. Her orbs darted around the room in search of her sword. It was her lifeline, her one slice of comfort she could always rely on. Finding it leaning in the corner, cleaned and sparkling, she couldn't help but smile in relief. It had been a gift from her father when she was only 15 in human years. He had sent it with Poseidon during one of his trips, making it clear that he wanted me to train with it. It had never left her side since. "A few hours then?"

Godric followed her movements, almost amused at her avoidance. "Three days."

Celena froze in place. "What?"

"You were gone for three days," he watched her reaction, watched as the confusion radiated off of her. He too was confused. He had never known her to take longer than a few hours, than half a day at the most, to regenerate. It was nearly unheard of for it to take days.

She slowly pivoted around, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "That can't be."

"It's never taken you this long before," he agreed.

She stared at the bed she had woken up on, as if it would feed her all the answers she was searching for. It wasn't possible. It shouldn't be possible. It had never taken this long before. It wasn't supposed to. "It took a day once, centuries ago. But…"

"Three days is not right," he finished for her.

Her gaze rose to meet his, and for the first time he had known her, Godric saw true fear in her orbs.

"Eric told me of the poison," Godric's eyes flickered to her side. "Perhaps it affected you more than any of us thought."

"No," Celena shook her head. "It shouldn't matter. I've had my chest ripped out and I still woke in a mere three hours. Three days isn't possible."

Unless…

Celena needed to call upon her allies, to question those in Olympus she was rarely ever allowed to communicate with. Kyros had poisoned her for a reason. He wanted to scare her. He wanted to cause her panic. And that's exactly what she was doing.

She needed to ensure the most dangerous weapon of all time was still safely out of her enemy's reach.

But another problem stood between her and those answers. Godric watched her, his stare causing her to look away once again. She had even more questions for Godric, more answers that she sought from the ancient boy.

Godric could see her distress, and it was starting to cause his façade to crumble. "You should get washed up," he motioned towards the bathroom. "I will have a change of clothing brought to you."

The Goddess narrowed her eyes as the vampire began moving quickly. Any mortal never would have been able to catch him in the act, but she wasn't just a mere human. Celena stepped in his path before he could reach the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Not so fast," she pursed her lips. "We have plenty to talk about, Godric."

"Soon," he moved around her at a human pace. "You just woke up, Lena. Rest."

There was warmth that spread through her at that nickname. It was enough to distract her, of course, the vampire slipping from the room before she even noticed. Cursing, Celena glared at the closed door before shaking her head and heading into the adjoined bathroom. While either Eric or Godric had cleaned the blood from her body while she had been dead, she still felt like death. It lingered on her skin; it always did.

Her thoughts consumed her as she peeled her bloodies clothes off and moved towards the shower. She felt as if she were on autopilot as the warm water cascading over her form, the heavy stream loosening the tension in her shoulders. As she was cleaning herself, her eyes closed, her fingers slid across her side.

She froze.

The shower was immediately turned off as she scurried out, her eyes wide as she glanced down at her side. It was supposed to be smooth. It was supposed to be as if nothing had ever occurred. That was what happened when she died and woke up. That was what happened with the regeneration. Her body was supposed to reset.

It wasn't supposed to how the evidence of her latest defeat.

"How…" Celena was mystified at the scar. The wound was completely closed, not even a hint of redness around the skin. But it was still there, the jagged scar that reminded her of her run in with Kyros, of the poison that had taken her life so violently.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The Goddess needed answers now more than ever

Tugging on the bra and panties she was relieved to find were clean enough to do, she slipped back out into the bedroom to dress so she could call on an old ancient friend.

She wasn't surprised at all to find she was no longer alone.

Eric Northman sat on the edge of the bed, a wide smirk on his lips as his gaze raked across her form. She was only glad that her arms hanging at her side hid the mark from view. The Viking licked his lips in appreciation for the curves she wore. The women of this day and age were too bony for his liking. She was slender, but was most definitely a woman of another time.

"Well hello there, Princess."

Celena raised an eyebrow as she just stood there, staring at him. She didn't try to hide herself; she wasn't ashamed of her body. It was difficult to find anything to be ashamed of after 3,500 years. All she cared about, however, was ensuring the scar was not in his sight. He would only ask more questions, and there were no answers she could offer.

"Do you see that, Viking?" she nodded at the door. "I'm sure even in your time, you were taught to knock before entering."

"I'm a Viking," he merely shrugged. "We pillaged."

"You would have failed if you tried to pillage me," she shot back, a smirk of her own gracing her lips. It was amusing to spar with him. She wondered what it would be like to go sword to sword with the Viking. Maybe one day.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Just a fact," she snickered before crossing the room and reached around him for the loose sweat pants that had been left for her. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The smirk was soon wiped from his lips as the blonde's concerned gaze swept over her as she tugged the pants on. "What the hell is that?"

Celena cursed herself for not being more careful. "It's nothing, Eric."

He ignored her as he pulled her by the hips until she stood between his legs, his fingertips tracing the length of the scar. "You told me what would happen on the plane before you died. You assured me that you would wake completely healed, without a single mark on your body. Did you lie to me, Princess?"

"I didn't lie," she sighed heavily, not bothering to pull out of his reach. He would only stubbornly pull her back until he was satisfied she was fine. It was almost sweet that the vampire cared after only knowing her for a few days. She had a feeling it wasn't the norm for him.

"Then what the hell is this?" his glare bore through her. "Why are you scarred?"

"I don't know," Celena was really getting tired of having to say that. For being alive millenniums, she sounded nothing better than some teenaged twit. Another sigh sounded from her lips when Eric sent her a look of disbelief. She raised a hand to cup his cheek, offering him a small smile. "I really don't know, Eric. But I'm fine. I feel perfectly fine. Now away with those feelings of yours; you're supposed to be a heartless vampire, are you not?"

But Eric didn't look amused at all. "Does Godric know about this?"

Celena did move out of his grasp this time, grabbing the plain t-shirt and pulling it over her head. "No, and he won't. Not yet, anyways."

"Don't you think this is supposed he should know?" Eric argued, standing from the bed in an attempt to intimidate her to get his way.

"You know that doesn't work on me, Viking," she turned towards the door. "I'll tell him, but I have too many questions that need to be answered before I start caring about some scar."

"We aren't finished," he appeared before her, blocking her path. "You know something, don't you?"

She shook her head. "I honestly don't. That's why you need to move, so I can have a very long discussion with your maker before seeking guidance from some old friends."

"Don't think for a moment that you're leaving the nest," he growled.

"Wouldn't dream of it. This is more of a house visit sort of emergency," she assured, patting his chest before the vampire began to feel the energy seeping from his chest and straight into her hand. Eric was amazed at the slight glow around her fingers as his body sagged and stumbled.

Damn her.

"I'll deal with this later," Celena promised, skirting around the annoyed vampire before he could regain his strength. "One problem at a time."

Eric only grunted when she opened the door, the Goddess pausing in the doorway to shoot him one last glance. "Is it always like this with you?"

"Like what?"

"One thing after another?"

Her smile was strained. "Oh I have a feeling we're just getting started."

* * *

**A/N:** Ah, finally, Godric returns! The two are going to have a lovely conversation in the next chapter (poor vampire is going to get a good earful for his silly little adventure at the Fellowship, I believe). You all still rock. Like majorly rock.

Keep your fingers crossed for me guys, I may may may get some news on a job prospect early next week!


End file.
